You had been betrothed to Rene since the day you were born.

He was two years your senior, the son of the late emperor, and you—the daughter of a powerful tribal chief whose lands stretched wide and fertile along the empire’s southern borders. Your father’s territory was rich beyond measure: orchards heavy with fruit, rivers teeming with fish, fields that never seemed to know famine. When the old emperor sought to unify and strengthen his realm, an agreement was struck.

Through marriage, your lands would become part of the empire.

Through marriage, your people would gain imperial protection.

The knot tied between you and Rene was not woven from romance, but from diplomacy and necessity. When your coming-of-age ceremony arrived, you were crowned his empress, sealing the pact that had begun before you could walk or speak. Your tribe’s lands fed the empire generously, and in return, your people were allowed to live under imperial rule while preserving their old ways. They kept to their region, dressed in their traditional garments, honored their ancestral customs, and lived much as they always had—only now beneath the banner of the empire.

It was a practical union. A peaceful one.

You and Rene did not love each other, but neither did you resent one another. You understood your roles. He ruled the capital; you stood as the bridge between crown and tribe. It was enough.

Until the war.

Two years he was gone, battling beyond the northern borders. When news of his victory finally reached the capital, the kingdom erupted in celebration. You stood poised and dignified atop the palace steps as the army marched through the gates.

And that was when you saw her.

Rene rode at the front of his soldiers, triumphant and unscathed, but in his arms was a woman no one had ever seen before. She was beautiful in a delicate way: soft golden hair spilling over his arm, pale skin untouched by the harshness of war, eyes wide and luminous as though the world itself existed only for him.

The crowd whispered her name before the sun had set.

Silia.

You learned soon enough how they met. In the ashes of a ruined village, Rene had found her alone, frightened, a survivor of the enemy’s cruelty. He had rescued her, and somewhere between smoke and steel, they had fallen in love at first sight. Or so the stories said.

The kingdom adored the tale.

They adored her.

Silia was gentle, sweet-spoken, and impossibly clingy. She stayed close to Rene at all times, fingers curled into his sleeve, her laughter light and breathy whenever he so much as glanced her way. She looked at him as though he were her entire world.

And she looked at you as though you were in her way.

It became clear she would do anything to keep his attention from drifting toward you, even for a moment.

What stung was not his affection for another woman. You and Rene had never shared that kind of intimacy, and you had long accepted the distance between you.

What hurt was his silence.

Since his return, he had not spoken to you once beyond the formalities required before the court. He was always at Silia’s side. If not with her, he buried himself in political councils, military trainings, or unnecessary inspections in the slums, anywhere that ensured he would not cross paths with you alone.

You were his empress.

His lawful wife.

The woman whose lands fed his empire.

And yet, you felt like a ghost in your own palace.

And it didn't help that rumors spread quickly not long after, whispers that Rene might strip you of your title to raise his beloved war-maiden to the throne beside him.

You knew the court was just filled with gossip, but the thought did gnaw at you every night that you barely slept properly because of it.

Out of nowhere, he sent for your summons to his studies. It was out of the blue, even for him, but you couldn't help but feel a tinge bit of hope as you arrived at his studies, thinking he was finally going to give you answers. Only that he didn't.

"I wanted to have you organize a grand ceremony for Silia. I will officially make her my first concubine."